The Road to True Love
by Idiosyncrasy-etric
Summary: Harry Harper is driving Lara Stone to the airport after her wedding has collapsed. The two talk, feelings are exposed.
1. Default Chapter

This is my first fanfic ever, not just my first casualty fanfic, so I would really appreciate any tips or help. Thank you so much for all of your kind reviews, I wasn't really going to write a second part but then I got so many reviews asking me to that I just felt inclined to. I'm afraid I wasn't quite as inspired with the second, but then, there wasn't much else that I could have done, so feel free to read it and try not to feel disappointed! Remember, I am asking for help to improve this piece, or higher the standard of my work. Please forgive me for occasional typos or grammar mistakes; I'm not perfect though I have proof-read. Also, I have corrected some small mistakes in the first chapter and updated it, though it has not actually changed and the story remains the same.

The first chapter begins about ten minutes after when we left Lara and Harry, in the final episode of the last series. Lara has already changed her tickets to Australia and they are supposedly on their way to the airport. I'm sorry but I do portray Harry as the 'bad guy' a little.

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me, but I'm afraid I'm not sure who they do belong to, guessing the BBC? Also not sure whether you only have to write that for American programs because all the casualty fanfics I have checked have not included one.

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The country lanes were rickety and Lara wished Harry would just keep his eyes ahead; to concentrate on the drive. She lent back into the soft leather and closed her eyes; exhausted by the morning's activities. She couldn't believe what had happened! Okay, so she knew that Simon had been into drugs, but that was a had been - past tense! And the women...sure, Simon was the biggest womaniser in Holby but she had thought he had changed, she had hoped he had changed. Everybody must think her a fool! He's probably been arranging dates with the patients in full view of all hospital staff, she thought, bitter with resentment.

"You know, Lara, I can't say that I ever predicted any different." Harry again. Oh why couldn't he just shut up? All she wanted was to be driven to the airport where she could just escape to hot, sunny Australia, the land of freedom and joy. A country where nobody knew how she had been ridiculed, taken for a fool in front of everybody; only herself ignorant to that fact. "Well...actually, I maybe gave you a couple more months of marriage, before Simon started to stray, that is. Didn't know it would happen this soon, but then, that's Simon Kaminski for you."

Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Since they had left Harry had been going on non-stop about the general lowness of Simon. Despite the fact that Lara agreed, she hardly thought it was Harry's right to criticise, not after everything the doctor had done himself.

"You see Lara, you just can't change people. Simon always has been a low, cheating, manipulative, arrogant-"

"Enough already!" Lara snapped, not able to bear any more of Harry's remarks. Harry may have been directing his comments at Simon, but Lara couldn't help feeling stung.

"Okay Lara, I'm sorry if the truth makes you uncomfortable, but you were always on shaky ground with Simon. Lara, you can fix people. You can take them apart and fiddle with their organs and send them away in one whole piece, but you just can't change people! Simon is a bastard and will always be one. What your problem is, Lara, is that you feel the need to extend your medicine into areas of your life that should not be dominated by the hospital. What I mean to say, is that you base your romantic choices on those that you want to help. Those that need helping, who need to be fixed. But you can't always do that Lara, sometimes you have to leave it to other people."

Harry was obviously growing more and more angry as he spoke; he talked with an aggressiveness that worried Lara. All Lara wanted was a ride to the airport, not a lecture. Damn! He was starting up again.

"You see Lara, every man you've chosen, you hated on first meeting them for the appropriate reasons. You saw them as the bastards they were, quite rightfully. So you see, there's no problems there. No. They begin later, when instead of seeing them as they are, you begin to see them as, well, patients. You begin to see them as lovely, innocent little boys who life has wronged. Men that you can help, that you can fix." Lara had stopped listening. Instead she was leaning back into her chair, scrunching her eyes up tightly in a desperate effort to wipe out the whole day. She flicked a strand of long, blonde hair out of her face and fingered the lace of the wedding dress, remembering how only hours ago she had been excited as, well, anything, on her wedding day. No. She had to remind herself; this was not Lara Stone's wedding day; it was Lara Stone's first day of her new life. Her new life back in Australia with her family, and life-long friends. That was what day it was.

"Take Simon, Luke, Patrick-"

"What have they got to do with it?" Lara demanded angrily, beginning to tire of Harry's useless talk. "What was wrong with Luke? It was a fling Harry! He was sweet and-" she paused, thinking of Harry's reaction when he had viewed the CCTV, "and sexy. Patrick? For fucks sake Harry! Patrick was the-" she wanted to say 'love of my life', but she couldn't bring herself to utter those words. Hadn't she thought of Simon like that, just a few hours ago? Hadn't she disrespected Patrick's memory, pushed away their love by treating, well, as Harry had said, a low, cheating, manipulative, arrogant Simon with the same tenderness of heart she had felt for Patrick?

Damn it! Now she really was mad with Harry. Wasn't it enough for him to criticise her for choosing Simon, without bringing Patrick up? She had thought of Patrick easily for months now - a fete she had never managed before. Now her sore memories were springing up again, her guilt stronger now than ever. She shouldn't feel guilty for allowing herself to love somebody as she had Simon. But Dr. Harry Harper had managed for her to feel that way, just by mentioning his name.

Harry could feel himself growing angry. He didn't know who his anger was directed at exactly; Kaminski? Lara? A dead man? When Harry was angry, he really was blinded with rage. He couldn't think outside his hatred, outside a bubble of overwhelming emotions that surrounded him. If somebody asked him to repeat the steps of a simple procedure, he wouldn't be able to recall them, not when his mind was taken over with rage.

Why had Lara thrown herself away on that bastard? That useless sack of nothing. That drug-taking bastard. Couldn't she see there were other men, men who really respected her, men who would treat her affectionately, with love, and not hold her in contempt for rescuing them from a definite death? He was one of those, damnit! he loved Lara, he had done for years! She had never so much as looked past the line of useless sex-toys and at Harry, who had patiently waited whilst she ruined her life, whilst she dug a knife deeper into her wounds, for her to finally realise he was the one she needed! He was the one she desperately needed, the one who could mend her, hypocritical as that was. She should crave him, just as he had craved her for so many years. She thought she knew what he had felt when he watched that CCTV - well she was wrong! Harry had just felt defeated, not for himself, but for her, for Lara. He had felt deeply sorry that she could be loosing even minutes of her life to that, that thing. Just another of the numerous good-looking, unfeeling idiots who walked the streets of London every day. How could she?

"Simon, Luke, Patrick," Harry repeated with deliberate care. What, was he keeping a record on her love interests, Lara wondered glimly, as Harry continued his lecture, "Craig, David Collier-"

Lara felt like she had been slapped in the face, no punched in the ribs. She wasn't shocked, or startled; she was thrown into sudden chaos.

"W-what?" She mumbled, incredulous.

"Craig, David Collier." Harry repeated again, indifferent to the effect on Lara the name had caused. "What's the matter?" He asked as he peered into his back-mirror and saw an ashen-faced Lara staring into space; her face white and pale, her eyes bright with business and her teeth clawing at her lips.

"I, I can't believe you just said that Harry!" Lara shouted, thumping her hand against the back of his chair, "What's wrong with you?"

Harry contemplated Lara's anger. Okay, maybe he had been wrong; strictly speaking David Collier didn't exactly fit into the category he had placed the other men in. But he couldn't apologise, not now, not with his anger burning up inside of him.

"Harry! Are you even listening to me!" Lara sobbed. What was wrong with him? Had he gone completely mad? That, that man, if you could call him one, had attempted to rape her, had tried to murder her. His attack and her response had had her sent to prison, locked in a cell. Even when she came out she had been treated differently, with fear, with worry. Her work had been affected, she had been placed under surveillance...how could he?

"I, Lara, you know I didn't mean it." Harry clenched his hands on the steering wheel, pressed his foot down on the accelerator.

Lara's tears were falling freely now, she wasn't holding them back for the sake of dignity, she wasn't even spilling them for her loss of a husband. All the grief and hurt she had felt so sharply for the past few years came hurtling out of her in breath-wrenching sobs. Harry, watching her in the mirror didn't know how to react. On one hand, he wanted to comfort her, to hug her, to show her he cared, he was there, he could help. On the other, he wanted her to stop crying, to regain her composure, to be the cool, together Lara that he had always respected.

"Lara..." he trailed off, unaware of his fault. "Lara," he began again, only to leave the sentence uncompleted once more. Gripping his hands tighter on the steering wheel he concentrated on the road. He wasn't quite sure where they were; he hadn't been paying much attention and he guessed they should have reached some kind of main road by now. He needed to find the way onto a motorway but all he could see was fields, and trees and yet more trees.

"I, Lara, you've got to help me out here." Harry pleaded with the crying woman. "Lara, what, what should I be doing?" At no response Harry snapped, "Damnit Lara; how was I to know to avoid that name? You don't deal with problems by shutting them away, you know!"

She was so beautiful. Even now. Even now, with make-up smudged and her hair blowing fiercely with the wind. She really had looked stunning, when she appeared, in her almost intense dress. Harry had wished more than anything that she could belong to him, to Harry Harper. Or even that he could just own her for one night, one pleasure-filled, love-struck night. That was all he asked, just to feel Lara's hand brush over his face, to hold her face in his hands and gently kiss away her pain, to show her his love, to have her love him back...

Lara's phone began to ring, the noise piercing into the silence that had developed in the car. Lara ignored it at first and then picked it up, looking at the name which appeared on the screen.

"Who is it?" Harry asked, more calm.

"Abs," Lara answered in a tone of indifference.

"Are you going to answer it?" Harry asked as the ringing continued.

Lara didn't answer. Instead she eyed the open window beside her thoughtfully, then swiftly threw her phone out, and onto the road.

"Lara!" Harry exclaimed in shock.

"They're not part of my life anymore," Lara stated in response to Harry's not-yet-spoken question. "I don't need them."

Harry nodded. Lara's independence, her strength, was one of the things he greatly admired about her. She was a fighter; she was fierce! Lara was one of the strongest women he had ever met, not a lot could go through what she had without falling apart. The loss of a lover, an attempted rape, all the things Lara, herself, had been thinking about just moments earlier.

"Lara," Lara had stopped crying and she looked up as Harry stared back at her, "Lara, I love you."

All that was unuttered, unspoken between them suddenly opened up, a dark void for Lara, that she needed to avoid, bright new possibilities for Harry who had been thinking that thought for years.

"Watch the road Harry," Lara replied. Harry turned back to staring in front, at the endless grey of the tarmac, the green of the trees.

"Lara, did you...?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"Not now Harry."

Harry nodded his head in a bitter understanding. He had finally confessed his true feelings; in a moment of, of what? and he had been rejected. Again.

"Lara, why do you treat me this way?" Harry asked, twisting round in his chair and looking at the confused Lara.

"Harry...I..."

"With such contempt?"

"Harry!" Lara shouted, causing Harry to turn back to the wheel and steer the car back into the middle of the road.

"I mean, I'm the only one who ever treats you right, Lara. I respect you, I admire you. Surely you know that?"

"Harry, please, not now."

"Well when then Lara? You're just jetting off to sunny Australia, running away from your problems, escaping from your life! Am I ever going to see you again? No! Probably not. Just because you can't bare to stay here and face everything head-on. You know, the Lara I've always admired is not a quitter Lara, but you are, you're quitting. You're just running away! Hiding from your life. When else am I going to get this chance? We've not spoken properly in twelve months Lara! Bloody hell. I have to confront you; I have no choice."

"Harry, please, I don't need this!" Lara cried, punching her first into her lap in sheer frustration. The last thing she needed now was to be abandoned by one lover and chastised by another.

"Well it's true Lara. You go and get all upset by Collier, when absolutely everything else I said was true - and gets ignored! You choose men who use you Lara! They're attracted by your strength, and they're weak Lara, weak. They just use you!"

"So you've said Harry," Lara resigned herself to the fact that he was not going to stop. Where were they? she wondered. Surely they should have reached a bit of civilisation by now.

"Well it's true. You go off with useless lump after lump and all the time you fail to see what you really need, waiting in front of you."

"Harry, I don't need anything. I don't need anybody to tell me what I need either. I will take what I want, when I want, where I want and that shouldn't bloody affect you!"

"Lara!" Harry cried, swinging around from the wheel again, "I love you! Why can't you see that? Why can't you open your eyes up to the possibility that _I_ am what you need!"

"Harry! The road!" Lara shrieked, terrified by Harry's sudden carelessness. "Do you want to crash and kill us both?" she questioned, glad when Harry turned back round.

"Lara! Why won't you even consider me? Why won't you even try? You don't know what it would be like! You don't know how good it would be for you."

"Harry, please!"

"But Lara, your mind is closed. You're just digging yourself deeper wounds. I can, I can heal you Lara, I can love you!"

Lara shook her head, "You're nothing but a bloody hypocrite Harry! Calling Simon a druggie, well I seem to remember a certain incident of self-prescribing, don't you? You're the arrogant, low, manipulative bastard Harry, not me! For chrissake, you drove your own daughter to the point of suicide!"

"That was all different Lara!" Harry was blinded once again by rage. But not only by rage but by his deep love for Lara, and his compelling desire to make her return his love. He needed for her to understand him, to appreciate his love, not to throw it back in his face with past mistakes. "I was grieving Lara! My wife had just died. Kaminski was doing nothing but being a, a, oh I don't know Lara! Kaminski couldn't cope; he couldn't function without the aid of drugs. I had lost my bloody wife! And I didn't have you to help either,"

"Harry, that's where this all started, didn't it?" Lara asked, her voice low and steady, "Beth. When Beth died, you just latched onto the nearest thing - me. You don't love me, Harry, you just turned all your emotions on me, used me as a source of, I don't know Harry. You don't love me."

"I do!" Harry screamed, the car sliding dangerously to the right, "Lara. Every ounce of me loves you, why can't you see that?"

"Harry, pullover - now!" Lara spoke slowly and calmly, trying to decrease Harry's manicness with her own depression.

"Stop the car Harry."

He turned to face her again, the car swerving back to the left. "Why can't you be with someone who loves you, Lara?" He asked.

"Pullover Harry."

"I love you."

"Stop the car!"

"I'm the only one who does Lara. The others just lust you."

"Harry, let me out." Lara ordered again, still trying to remain calm despite her trembling voice and the panic that had arisen in the pit of her stomach.

"Do you love me, Lara?"

Lara contemplated jumping, but the car was too fast. She couldn't make it into the front of the car without startling Harry. At least he was still in control; his hand was on the wheel, he hadn't forgotten completely.

"Do you love me, Lara?" Harry asked again, more demanding. "I'm the only one who loves you Lara."

"Harry! Stop the car!" Lara pleaded. She reached for her seatbelt, to unbuckle it, in the hope that she could climb over into the front of the car. Harry was growing increasingly manic, demanding her to answer him with more force each time he asked. The car started to slow; his foot must have the left the accelerator, but his hand wasn't on the wheel!

"Harry..." Lara tried her best to speak very slowly, not wanting her fear to show. She talked as she would have done to a person with a gun in their hand, somebody with scissors at her throat. "Harry, I need you to stop the car alright? I need you to turn to the wheel, and press your foot on the break. Harry, are you listening to me?"

Harry had turned back to the wheel alright, and his foot was pressing down, but onto the accelerator. Lara's stomach tightened in anxiety. A wave of very real panic washed over her, making her feel sick from the head down. She clenched her fists in dreaded anticipation. This wasn't Harry Harper! Harry Harper was cool and calculated, always in control. Harry Harper did not declare his undying love and then plummet himself and his love into death.

"Harry!" Lara screamed, loosing her calmness. "Harry, break!"

His driving was becoming more chaotic, his breathing was heavy and fast. Lara prepared for a crash. Would she be able to reach the front of the car in time? Or would that just send him into a panic?

"Harry, think of Tally! Of your children!"

"Do you love me Lara? Do you love me?" he roared a second time.

"Yes, yes, Harry, please!"

"What?"

"I, I love you Harry! I love you, now stop the car!"

The car swerved and screeched down the slope.

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Hehe! You'll be glad to know my second chapter has finally been uploaded. Enjoy.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello everybody! ï Here is the second chapter. I hope you enjoy it and try not to be too harsh in your reviews! :P

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Harry grunted. Dim light blurred his sight when his eyelids flickered open. He shut them immediately. He could feel a throbbing pain in his left leg – god please allow it not to be trapped! Carefully, he manipulated his leg into movement. It worked, and though he winced with pain, he could easily tell it wasn't broken and it was free to move.

"Lara?" Harry asked into the back of the car. He hadn't yet opened his eyes fully, and he was dreading the moment. "Lara?" He asked again in a more desperate tone.

There was no answer. All Harry could hear was the screeching of birds, and a muffled silence. No distant cars, no running water, no civilisation. No Lara. Slowly, Harry pried his eyelids open again. Next to him, a deflated air bag rose gently and fell, aided by the breeze entering through the smashed windscreen. Harry's hand somehow made it to his seatbelt fastener and pressed it loose. The seatbelt strap seemed to recoil away from Harry, releasing pressure off of his chest.

"Lara?" Harry repeated the name. He was scared now. The car was surrounded by trees; a huge oak blocked his own side of the car. He wasn't able to fully twist in his seat, to peer into the back of the car but the rear-view mirror hung, just in his reach, dangling from some left-over windscreen glass.

Grimacing, Harry pushed his arm forwards towards the mirror. Once he had hold of it, he twisted it, pulling it towards his own face. He peered anxiously into the reflection that greeted him. No Lara. But how could that be?

The smell of fuel was beginning to push in on Harry, nauseating him, making him feel sick. His body suddenly convulsed, and he lurched forwards, vomiting into the black space beneath the steering wheel. Feeling empty, he leant back into the soft seat. Warm fluid was trickling down from his forehead and he pressed his palm to his head, wiping the red smudge clean.

Realising what the presence of petrol meant, Harry levered himself gingerly upwards, so that he could fully turn in his seat. His stomach screamed and his leg throbbed yet more insistently, but Harry managed to turn so he faced the back of the car.

Lara had been thrown onto the floor, below the seats. Her previously pristine white dress was smeared with red and her blonde hair was a darker shade of death. Harry was shocked. Had he done this? Had he caused this situation? Could he really deny it? All at once his deep love for Lara struck him and he painfully clambered into the back of the car.

Gently, he cupped Lara's head in his hands and raised it upwards. He knew he shouldn't have been touching her, he shouldn't have moved her without the paramedics, the body boards, but this was Lara, Lara in a wrecked car, a car surrounded by petrol that could ignite at any moment. He couldn't just leave her; he had to do something!

Wrapping his arms around the slim body, he tenderly eased the doctor up, and laid her on the car seats. He was ignoring his leg, which still bothered him, in his adoration of the unconscious woman.

Lara's face was battered and bloody, he realised her arm was most probably broken but Harry was delighted that a strong pulse still remained. He hadn't killed her! He soothingly stroked her blood-stained face, fingering the lace of her wedding dress. Shards of glass from the windows had torn into Lara's skin; some large pieces went deep, causing bleeding from Lara's body. Harry wished he cold remove the glass, but knew there was a chance of further injuring her.

"It's alright, its okay baby," Harry whispered into Lara's ears. "You're safe now, I'll keep you safe." After several moments of purely caressing her, in his complete glee to find her alive, Harry sensed that he somehow had to get her out of the car, and away from this potential death-machine.

Reaching forwards, Harry's hand clasped the metal spring which controlled Lara's door. Unwillingly, the door swung forwards a little, smashing into the giant oak and slamming shut again. Harry cursed and punched his hand into the car seat. If he didn't manage to get Lara out of the car in time, not only would it mean the death of his love, but probably a lifetime of imprisonment for Harry Harper.

Exhausted by his huge effort, Harry leant back against the seat of the car. Clasping Lara's hand, he muttered, "just a moment, just a little rest...need a bit more energy."

His breathing was becoming more laboured; his chest was paining him more. He began to shut his eyes, but discovered images jumping out at him!

"Harry, pullover!"

"Stop the car Harry!"

"Pullover Harry!"

"Stop the car!"

No! NO! This wasn't his fault! Lara was hurt, but he hadn't caused it! He would never harm Lara, not intentionally! He loved Lara; she was dearer to him than anything. Hard as it was to admit, he would probably mourn the loss of Lara, far greater than that of his daughter, Tally. No. That wasn't true. He loved his children, of course he did...it was just...a different kind of love.

Oh God. Harry could see it now. Himself, in prison, locked in a cell. Everybody believing him to be responsible for 'Lara's injuries', for 'Lara's disability', for 'Lara's death'. He hated to state the truth, but the truth was that Lara had never recognised Harry's love for her. She had always thought of him as somebody trying to ruin her fun, wreck her pleasure, when really he had been protecting her. And, and what with the, well, the 'lead-up' to the accident, Harry was pretty sure that Lara would be confused about what had really happened. He could see her now, screaming at him to stop the car, to let her out, to break. Might she not remember only her emotions, might not others interpret Lara's fear falsely?

And what if she was concussed? What if she only remembered screaming at him to stop? Harry was growing more and more certain that Lara's memories of the incident would be misguided ones, that any reminders Lara had of the crash would only serve to harm Harry, and distance him from her.

Harry was aware that he was growing more and more paranoid, but whenever he closed his eyes and the screaming echoed again in his head, he just couldn't help himself. He realised with sudden shock that Lara had confessed her love for him! Lara, had told _him_, she loved _him_! Harry was suddenly ecstatic with joy and he turned greedily towards Lara, to notice that her dress was torn. He shook his head; this couldn't be right, no. It felt as though he was being set-up here, and all he had ever done was love her! Reaching for the rip in Lara's dress, he pulled the fabric down to cover her bare legs. She was so beautiful. So lovely. But then, she would also be the cause of Harry's imprisonment if he didn't act fast.

Harry eyed Lara suspiciously. He loved her so much! But his love had only ever got him hurt before, and he didn't think he could take any more pain right now. He could already see the headlines, "Jealous Doctor Death kills – for lack of love," "Doctor murders for absence of feeling". He wouldn't be able to take it! Everybody at the hospital knew of his feelings for Lara. They all knew how he hated Kaminski, how he accused Lara of throwing away her life. Some of them would be aware of his glee when the wedding broke down. They'd all realise that he had driven her away, and, and that her phone had been discovered on a country lane! Harry swore loudly. He might not be a police officer, but if the case was put to him, he was pretty sure what he would think. And then, if Lara accused him too, if Lara said he refused to stop the car, that she remembered pleading with him to 'let her out', well then...

What could he do? Lara was so perfect, but then he would probably never get to see her again if she survived. But then, was he being paranoid? After all, it had merely been an innocent crash. It wasn't as though he had planned it! It wasn't his fault Lara hadn't been wearing her seatbelt! It wasn't his fault she had thrown away her phone, plus she had voluntarily entered the car, he hadn't forced her. In truth, it had been an accident. Surely, surely if Harry had only made a mistake, had been slightly reckless in his driving, surely they couldn't do anything to him then? But then...wasn't it true that Lara had wanted to go to the airport? Harry certainly hadn't been taking her there. True, Harry had just been driving for the sake of it, just delaying Lara's departure, just finding opportunity to talk to her, but what if _they_ viewed it differently? What if they thought he had been keeping her in the car, driving her somewhere else, keeping her against her will? It did look slightly suspicious...Harry had no idea where they were! They were in the middle of nowhere, yet it had only taken him ten minutes to get to the wedding venue in the first place. Harry may have been slightly paranoid, but it wasn't like the evidence was on his side. There was so much room for misunderstandings, what if they thought he intended to – no. It was too hard. Harry would never hurt Lara! But then...they might think he would.

Harry wasn't sure how long they had been in the woods but he could feel himself growing more tired, could sense the change in temperature and light since he first awoke. He realised that if he was to do something, now was the time to do it. Now, before, he grew too exhausted, before all the light drained away and left him them in the dark.

He suddenly realised with a fair amount of shock that he had seriously been considering the covering-up of Lara's death. No, not the covering-up of an innocent crash. He had been considering leaving Lara, an alive, unconscious but alive Lara nevertheless, in a car prone to explosion, to cover-up the fact that he may have been responsible for the crash.

Harry felt sickened. How could he even have thought about that, let alone began to form plans! Thinking about leaving Lara in the car, so the 'evidence' could disappear reminded him once again that he was sitting in a car, that had maybe lasted an afternoon, but could not remain intact much longer.

The throbbing in Harry's leg was growing steadily worse, and he grimaced with pain as he heaved himself upwards and onto the seat which Lara's legs were spread across. The door by Lara's head wouldn't open, and neither would the driver's door, but how about the one next to him now?

Determined, Harry pushed an arm forward, and clutched onto the metal clasp that controlled the function of the door. He grabbed it and pulled. Nothing happened. He tried again. Still no reaction. Harry began to panic. This was his own fault. He just couldn't believe that he had been sitting here, wasting time, allowing Lara to slip further and further away from consciousness, as he pondered about leaving her to die. What an idiot he was! What a complete an utter moron! How dare he even suggest he cared about Lara when he had not yet tried everything in this power to help her!

Harry pulled at the clutch again, frustrated. The door remained closed. His right leg, the good leg, kicked at the door, to no avail. He hoped for the sake of his own life, and Lara's, that the door in the front of the car would open. The stench of petrol was so strong, yet he had blocked it out completely these past, what, minutes, hours? Even if it was only minutes, he still couldn't believe he had let even a single minute go by where he had neglected the helping of Lara. He couldn't believe nobody had smelt the fuel, and come to help yet.

Ignoring the sharp pain in his leg, Harry somehow climbed back into the front of the car. Lara was so perfect, so beautiful, so amazing. He had to save her! How dare he abandon her even if the alternative was certain death to himself.

This was his last chance. If this door didn't work, they were destined to death. Dusk was growing quickly in the woods and Harry needed to act quickly. If the door wouldn't open, there was always the smashed windscreen, but then, that was so dangerous. Only about half of it was missing, and although he might be able to climb out, he couldn't bear to think of hurting Lara more, of cutting through her skin with glass, of piercing her body and scarring her! It was too horrible a thought. He supposed he could always leave; go find help, but where? He had no idea where they were. Surely if there was anybody living nearby they would have heard the crash, smelt the petrol, and come by now. And even if he did find somebody, how would he lead them back to the car, in the dark? What, what if something happened whilst he was gone? Something which would take Lara from him, vanish her away while he couldn't even say goodbye?

In the back of the car, Lara moaned softly, in pain. Harry's ears picked up the noise immediately and he hurriedly clambered back, towards her.

"Lara!"

Lara's breathing was fast and raspy. Harry began to stroke her hair, "Lara, it's me, Harry. Lara, you're alright, don't worry. I'm going to get you out of here!"

Lara's eyelids flickered and closed again. Harry watched her intently. "Lara, Lara, just open your eyes for me Lara. Stay awake for me now Lara. Please, Lara, just open your eyes," he coaxed, brushing her cheek with his hand.

"Harry?" Lara's whisper was barely audible but Harry was concentrating so hard he would have heard her sigh.

"Yes? Yes, Lara? I'm here, you don't need to worry, it's going to be okay." Harry answered caringly.

Lara's eyelids flickered up briefly, and Harry caught a glimpse of her green eyes, clouded with pain and confusion. His heart tore at the thought of Lara's suffering and as he tenderly stroked her he wished he could take it for himself.

"Lara, you're going to be okay, I promise. Just stay awake, okay? Don't sleep Lara. Please, open your eyes again Lara. Come on, open your eyes."

"I'm cold Harry," Lara whispered, silvery veils of air leaving her mouth as she talked. Her face had a curious tint of blue and Harry felt terrible that he hadn't noticed this before. He pulled off his jacket quickly, ignoring his own pain, and wrapped it gingerly around Lara, careful of the broken arm.

"There, there. You're going to be okay," Harry promised, trying to hide his tears in case Lara should look up again. "Better now?" He took her hand and started to rub it, hoping to share his heat with her.

Lara did not speak again and Harry began to worry, more anxiously than previously. He could hear her breathing, and she cried out occasionally, but did not have the strength to talk. She didn't question where they were, or what was happening, and the only time she did speak again was when Harry carefully unclasped his hand from hers' to try the front door again. When he did this, Lara called out, "Harry!" in pain, and it wrenched his heart to tell her he just needed to try the door, even though he knew it was for the best.

In the front of the car again, and aware that every second left Lara in more pain, Harry grasped hold of the door clasp and prayed to a god he had never believed in that this would work. To his utter joy, the door bounced easily open. A pool of dark petrol was below him and Harry nearly slipped as he exited the car.

He wasn't going to leave her, of course not. He just had to get her clear of the car, that was his first priority, and then he would work on his second. He actually guessed that the crash hadn't been more than a couple of hours ago, but in the woods, with the shade of the trees, the sunlight disappeared faster.

Harry forced his leg to move and grabbed hold of the back door. He started to pull, to wrench the door open, but he just couldn't force it to open. Outside the car, broken glass littered the ground and he was glad that there was less inside. He realised that although Lara was a dot to dot of broken glass, he hadn't really been affected at all, even in all his moving about.

"Lara!" Harry cried as he heard her moans get louder. "Lara! I'm, I'm still here, I'm going to get you out!"

Carefully avoiding the petrol, Harry made his way to the boot. It was hanging open, probably forced that way by the strength of the crash. Painfully, he shoved it up, higher. Inside, he knew, would be some tools. Perhaps tools that could aid the forcing of the door.

Lara whimpered in pain. Her chest hurt whenever she breathed in and she felt as though some giant needle were sticking through her heart. She tried not to concentrate on the pain, dull aches in some places, sharp and intense in others. Suddenly a gust of wind hit her, and she was made even more aware of her coldness. She was numb and could not feel Harry's hands as he roughly grabbed her and pulled. And she was sinking back into unconsciousness as the car exploded.


End file.
